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It’s one of those days, muggy, long, and fucking irritating. The commute in and out of Bangkok is ghoulish and all he can be is grateful the week’s nearly over. Come Saturday, he’ll mug a tourist or two and he’ll end the day hundreds of euros richer. A hoodlum, they’ll call him, and he won’t care. He’ll carry the title with pleasure.
But before heading to his run-down flat, he stops at the local bar with no intention of staying long. He merely wants an ice-cold beer to put a cherry on top of his shitty day. The usual hostess takes him to his usual table, a shitty, wooden, wobbly thing. At least service is good. A minute later, he’s served. He takes a long sip.
And… huh. Tonight’s a nice view.
A couple sits at the bar counter, their appearances clearly marking them as tourists — they’re certainly not native Thai. At first, he thinks they are a heterosexual couple and he isn’t interested. But then he realizes the man on the left is actually a woman. Despite her short blonde hair and her men’s clothing, her (very attractive) body gives her away.
The dykes are undoubtedly a couple. Their stools are placed close together, their knees knock against each other’s, and they share a drink with two straws.
It’s extremely rare for tourists to stay this far from central Bangkok. They’ll do day trips, sure, but they’ll never spent the night. Here it’s quiet, calm, and the nightlife Bangkok offers is nonexistent in comparison.
He examines the dykes with increasing interest. The one on the left, the boy-ish one, is tall and muscular and of European descent. She wears jeans and a simple white button-up. Her men’s shoes rest on the footrest. Her girlfriend is of African descent and wears a black leather miniskirt and a cropped white top with puffy sleeves. It gives her the paradoxical appearance of angelic innocence and sincere seductiveness at once.
The one on the right, the pretty one, glances around the bar. When she sees him staring, he feels a jolt pass through.
He’s filled with unexpected warmth (and excitement) as she smiles coyly, tucking a lock of curly hair behind her ear.
She leans in and whispers something to her girlfriend.
Her girlfriend turns around.
Something stirs within. Man, her girlfriend’s handsome. (SCORE. Two sexy women look his way.)
He grins. The handsome one raises an eyebrow and smiles a half-smile that could be a smirk. The pretty one giggles and waves. He waves back. Over the next five minutes, he and the pretty one continue making eye contact and sharing increasingly suggestive eyebrow wags and head tilts until she’s nearly squirming.
She stands. Her thigh-high leather boots complement her skirt. And her handsome girlfriend stands with her. They take each other’s hands and approach him.
He can’t believe his luck.
“Hi! I’m Flo,” the pretty one says, “and this is Sveta.”
British. They’re British.
He tells them his name and enjoys a closer look. Sveta, the handsome one, has a face that would be gorgeous if it weren’t covered in scars. They’re paper-white against her pale skin and contrast sharply against a smattering of freckles. He can’t say he isn’t on edge, but he also can’t say he isn’t unbelievably attracted. Flo, the pretty one, wears her curly hair half-up and half-down. Though it’s early evening, she wears her sunglasses as a headband. Her golden hoop earrings look like something out of an eighties fashion magazine.
Something about them feels just a bit strange, perhaps a bit old-fashioned — or perhaps they’re just British.
He wants them badly.
“Why don’t you two ladies sit down?” he asks, gesturing to the empty seats beside him, and they sit. Flo daintily rests her hands on her lap. She has gorgeous eyes. And Sveta crosses her arms and rests her elbows on the table. He sees now that her neck and hands are also littered with scars.
“Thank you, dear,” Sveta says in an unexpectedly soft voice.
Sveta’s not British then, or not originally. While Flo’s accent is unmistakably a crisp English, Sveta has a slight Russian accent.
“What brings you to Sam Phran?” Before they answer, he guesses. “The dragon temple?”
“Isn’t it gorgeous!” Flo gushes. Her eyes sparkle. “I’d seen pictures, but it’s really very splendid in person.”
“It is, isn’t it? Where are you from?”
“London,” Flo confirms. “Well, we’re British citizens, I mean. Sveta’s originally—“
“From Russia,” Sveta says.
“And I’m from Czech… from the Czech Republic.”
Interesting. But not interesting enough for him to continue listening to Flo as she speaks about everything she’s done in Thailand thus far. She’s bubbly and energetic. Sveta is far more subdued. There’s a tension to her shoulders, an unease in her gaze. But every time they make eye contact, she smiles in a way that puts all doubts out of mind. Then he sees the scars all over her face and he grows wary again.
Just what could have done that to her? A wild animal? A bear, maybe?
Yet it doesn’t detract from her handsomeness. It only adds to her allure. She has got to be the handsomest girl he’s ever seen, hands down. He longs for Sveta and wonders if she’s intentionally making bedroom eyes at him or if he’s simply thinking wishfully.
What a pair of babes.
While Flo speaks, Sveta puts an arm around her. Flo instinctively leans in. Sveta’s scarred wrist rests on Flos’s shoulder.
He grows tired of the talk. He wants Flo but not her words.
“Perhaps it’s time to head out, darling,” Sveta says with excellent timing, tucking a lock of hair behind Flo’s ear. Flo turns to her with wide eyes.
Then she looks his way.
“Are you busy tonight?” she hesitantly asks.
(It’s his lucky fucking night. Two gorgeous girls.)
“I would like to be.” He’s sold. “You two make a lovely couple. Very lovely, I have to say. Very attractive.”
“Thank you, dear,” Sveta says. She raises her eyebrows lightly as if calling to him. And Flo looks at him with her giant eyes.
He imagines they want him too.
“I’d be interested in watching.” And joining. “I think we could have some fun.”
The effect is immediate. Flo turns to Sveta excitedly. “What do you say, Svetka? Can we invite him back? Please? I think he looks delicious.”
Sveta considers.
“Please?” he says, and Sveta smirks.
“Yes, please join us tonight.”
FUCK, YES.
The nice British girls pay for his drink. They catch a Grab outside and Flo takes the middle seat. “There are twenty-seven scratches outside of this car!” she announces, and Sveta grins for the first time that night.
“Oh, good, I was wondering,” she fondly tells Flo, and Flo beams. Sveta pecks her lips.
British people have strange senses of humor. He doesn’t understand the joke. Perhaps it’s for native speakers. But he’ll take it like he’ll take them.
The driver begins the ride and they all settle back.
“So what do you do?” Flo conversationally asks. Her knee presses against his leg. Through the thin fabric of his pants, he’s shocked by her freezing skin.
“I work in crypto.” A hint of pride leaks into his voice. Girls are always impressed by guys who work in crypto. Girls eat that stuff up. And girls don’t even know what crypto is.
“Oh, you work in crypto!” Flo turns to Sveta in delight. “Svetka, he works in crypto! Isn’t that so lovely?”
“Incredibly,” Sveta agrees. She leans forward so her upper body’s visible past Flo. Her hair falls on her forehead. It nearly glows in the dark. “I’m impressed, dear.”
“I work in AI, too,” he adds, increasingly confident. “Me and my friends are making an AI — kind of like ChatGPT, but for business incubators seeking to disrupt the market. This is going to change the world, y’know?”
Flo nods earnestly. Her curly hair bounces. She licks her lips. Oh, she wants him bad.
“I, like, totally agree,” she seriously says. “That is just so neat. Good luck on your AI!”
“Thanks.” He grins. “I’ll sent it to you when it’s done.”
“Please!”
“And what do you do, Flo?” he asks. “Let me guess — are you a model? A beauty influencer?”
“Oh.” Flo giggles and covers her mouth. She’s adorable. “That is too kind. No, I’m a chess player.”
“Really?” No way. She’s too pretty — and just a bit ditzy. He entertains her lie anyway. “What, you play with friends? Do you collaborate with streamers? Bet a beautiful exotic girl like yourself could make bank on OnlyFans, no?”
“You’re too sweet.” Flo shakes her head. “No, I’m really focused on chess right now…”
“I think the world championship’s going on right now,” he tells them. He doubts they know. There's a Swedish guy, or maybe a Norwegian, playing against who knows who. “Right here. In Bangkok.”
“Why do you think we’re here, love?” Sveta asks, and he can’t tell if she’s joking or not.
So he asks, “And you, Sveta? What do you do for work?”
“I’m a bouncer.”
“Oh.” He can see that. Though she wears long sleeves, he imagines her muscles are solid underneath. And given the state of her face, he can only imagine how ripped up — and terrifying — her arms must be. Yeah, he’d think twice before messing with her. Even if she’s crazy hot. “Fitting.”
“She’s also my bodyguard,” Flo jokes.
“Oh, is that how you got all those scars?”
He thought they were bantering, but Flo and Sveta go completely still. Their dark eyes seem to rip into his soul. Despite the warm night, goosebumps press up against his skin.
“I mean, it’s hot,” he quickly clarifies. “Super hot.” It really is.
But then Flo smiles sweetly and the discomfort melts away.
“It is hot, isn’t it? I’m so lucky to have my Svetka!”
And then she kisses Sveta’s cheek — covered with a scar — and leans into her. The conversation fades after that, which is fine with him.
He relaxes. He fantasizes. He imagines Sveta, strong and sultry, pinning Flo down. He imagines her diving between Flo’s thighs. He imagines Flo moaning Sveta’s name and pulling her hair.
He wonders if they use toys.
He’ll find out soon enough.
It’s a thirty minute drive, but he doesn’t ask why they’re staying in a such remote area. Maybe the Airbnbs were cheaper further out? But staying in Sam Phran is already significantly cheaper than staying in Bangkok proper and these ladies don’t seem cash-strapped. They driver takes them where street lights grow few and far between and the main sight is trees.
For the last ten minutes, Flo nods off against Sveta’s shoulder, who kisses her forehead and murmurs something that sounds like Maya Floshka. They finally arrive at a very secluded cabin. Even the driver looks around uneasily, clarifying that this is really their final destination. Sveta gently wakes Flo up and they confirm the cabin is their Airbnb.
Flo yawns. He thinks he catches a couple of very sharp teeth.
They exit the Grab. Flo pulls a wad of baht out of her purse and hands it to the driver, who stammers a shocked thank you and leaves before she can request change.
Hmm.
Flo’s purse is flush with cash.
He wonders if he can take the cash after the night is over. He’ll have his fun, then slip out while they’re both sleeping. They won’t miss it. He can tell Flo’s skirt and purse are both Versace. He wonders what other brands they wear that he can’t identify. He’s ready to follow them inside their cabin but both stop outside.
“Out here!” Flo brightly says, and he frowns.
“Eh… here? Outside?”
“We like to be creative,” she says, and she disarms him with her angelic smile. She takes her sunglasses off and uses a ribbon to tie her hair back. Sveta, meanwhile, begins unbuttoning her shirt and taking off her shoes.
“Is it time?” Flo asks.
“Very nearly,” Sveta says.
“I’ll have a go, then!”
Flo turns to him. With unexpected strength, she grabs him by his collar and pulls him close. He feels her cold fingers against his throat.
Oh. She’ll kiss his neck.
He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.
But, instead, her teeth slice into his skin with too much ease.
The pain is hot and sharp and sudden, but he’s too enamored or shocked to struggle or scream. Maybe it’s the sudden blood loss. He feels her sucking greedily at the wound she created, feels his skin tearing apart, and he gasps. This prompts additional blood to sputter out. Flo sucks greedily. She pulls away only once to wipe at her chin. Her teeth are blood-red and dripping. She smiles as sweetly as ever and he’s so very dizzy and he can’t catch his breath before then grabs him again and keeps going.
Behind Flo, Sveta finishes undressing. Her body glows under the faint moonlight. If he thought her face was torn apart, the rest of her is destroyed. He’d scream if he could, seeing jagged scars, some fresh, across her body. Then the clouds clear and the moon beams in all her glory and he’s lost too much blood, because he sees her body break apart to make room for fur and fangs and then he’s looking at a terrifying monster.
Sveta isn’t so handsome anymore.
He’s grateful when Flo finally rips his jugular out and ends him.
When Florence is done sucking him dry (it was what he wanted, wasn’t it?), she tosses his corpse to the ground and wipes her mouth with her wrist.
Her Svetka has been waiting so patiently. She licks her furry lips, her pleading eyes darting between Florence and the corpse, ready to pounce at a second’s notice.
“All yours!” she rasps, and her sweet Svetka ferociously lunges at the bloodless body. She tears him to pieces with her strong jaw. His arm goes flying over Florence and she laughs and catches it and brings it back. Svetka begins devouring his from his neck and his chest, stopping only to swallow and wolf down the fresh meat. Her snout is covered in blood.
Florence lets her be. She never disturbs or touches her Svetka while she’s eating because her wolf instincts are strong and she reacts defensively mid-hunt.
Sluggish and content and with a belly full of blood, Florence yawns and lies down by a tree stump for a nap. She drowsily watches her Svetka enjoying her meal and she falls asleep under the moonlight.
When she wakes, the moon is still high in the sky and there’s only bone left. Svetka has licked him clean. She paws at his bones sadly, digging through them with her snout. Her furry ears sink and she whines.
“Oh, my poor Svetka! You must have been so hungry.”
Her ears perk up when she hears Florence’s voice. She barks softly in acknowledgment, circling the pile of bones and looking at Florence with her large, wet eyes.
Florence takes a bone from the pile — a femur (Svetka’s favorite) — and lifts it high.
Svetka’s eyes glint. She growls playfully, darting around in anticipation.
And Florence hurls the bone as hard and fast as she can in the opposite direction. Svetka sprints after it. And Florence sprints after Svetka, laughing in delight.
Now that she’s napped, she’s ready to play until sunrise. And after the sun rises, she’s ready to play until she becomes World Champion.